Thrice Bitten
by Huffleton Puffleton
Summary: Wendy...Ophelia...Sophia. Three times he fell. Three times he was hurt. You'd think he'd learn. But maybe there's a happy ending yet. (Poll on my profile)
1. Chapter I: Wendy

CHAPTER ONE

James was the kind of guy you drooled over in almost every chick flick you've ever seen. He was tall and handsome, with warm brown eyes, and a dazzling smile; the type who gives awesome hugs. His personality, talent and intelligence were perfect. He was good at everything he tried. He wasn't the top of his class, but he got good marks without even trying. He was Keeper and captain of the Gryffindor quidditch team, though because of Hogwarts' lack of an arts program that was his only apparent talent. Most importantly though, was his personality. He was confident, with just a touch of cocky. Of course _the_ Harry Potter would raise good kids, so though he had selfish tendencies, the boy meant well.

Wendy was your run-of-the-mill Hogwarts student. She wasn't anything remarkable. She was short, with dark brown hair and similarly colored eyes. She was an average student, and an equally average Chaser for the Hufflepuff quidditch team, which hasn't won since Teddy Lupin was captain. Like any Hufflepuff, she was nice and friendly enough. She was the type to avoid any drama, and more often than not, succeeded. She wasn't as popular as the Potters and Weasleys, but she had many friends. However, where James' downfall was his arrogance and unintended selfishness, Wendy's was her naïveté and emotional mediocrity.

PART ONE

Just like every other school, Hogwarts had a hierarchy, and James Potter was at the very top of it. The only difference with this school was that people hung out based on their House. It wasn't a rule, and it wasn't judgmental. Sorting isn't just about who you are, it's also about who you'd get along with better. That was why it took a _lot _to be where James had gotten himself, though to be fair, it was also because of his dad. But he believed it was because of his own efforts that he'd stayed there all through his five (going on six) years at Hogwarts.

James mostly stayed with his Gryffindor friends. It required friends in all four houses to be as popular as he was, but he still got along better with Gryffindors. That was why he hadn't known Wendy until fifth year. They met through Dominique Weasley. Wendy and James were acquainted when Dom set them up on a date at Hogsmeade. Of course, she only did that so she could go on her _own _date with James' friend.

PART TWO

A year after the break up, James was alone that afternoon after his last class of the school year. Wendy couldn't imagine how anyone so popular could ever be alone, but there he was, walking towards her, alone.

"Hey", she said, as he sat next to her. She was leaning against a large tree overlooking the lake. She closed the book she was reading.

"Mind if I sit here?", he replied.

"No, it's fine. What happened?"

"They pulled a prank while I was at practice yesterday, so Freddie's in detention, while everyone else who was with him are at the Hospital Wing"

"Uhuh", Wendy smiled, but she was feeling uncomfortably awkward.

"What's that you're reading?"

"It's a muggle book. You wouldn't know it", she tucked the book into her bag before he could see the cover.

"Aren't you going to ask why I'm here?"

"Because I'm everyone's 'go-to' girl when they haven't got anyone to hang around with?", asked Wendy half jokingly

"Well, I can't say that's not true", he looked away. The whole conversation was awkward as only a conversation with someone you know well but don't really talk to can be.

"Okay, talk to me, then", she smiled.

"How's life?", he shrugged, grinning.

"No, _you're _supposed to tell me how you're life is", she rolled her eyes at him and laughed.

"Oh, is that how it goes?", he said a bit mockingly.

"Yeah, now start"

"Alright, well...it's okay, I guess...no problems or anything", he shrugged.

"Right, so why would you be here with me?", her brow was creased, and her lips were pressed together in a thin line.

"What's with the face?"

She had been looking him in the eye with such seriousness, but looked away abruptly, readjusted her expression and looked back with the same sweet smile.

"Do you mind if I...?", she gestured to a tangled pair of earphones in her book bag, "if you're not going to tell me much, we could just listen to music"

"Okay", he smiled and slipped on one of the earphones.

They listened to muggle songs, until one Wendy felt was too appropriate came up, it was called "Someone Like You". She didn't change the song.

PART THREE

James liked it. He liked sitting there with her, listening to music, just letting things pass for a while. He didn't understand how anyone could do it, but she could. He only knew one person who could get him to slow down like that, Wendy.

He felt this particular song they were listening to now was appropriate to express his feelings. He watched her, while he listened as closely as he hoped she was listening. Her eyes were closed, and she was breathing deeply, she could've been asleep, except her fingers were twitching to the slow beat. He didn't know if it was the late afternoon light on her face, but he wanted to kiss her right then and there. He wanted to kiss her to that song, to "Falling in Love at a Coffee Shop".

PART FOUR

James had never thought of her that way before Dom set up the date. To him, she had always been just that pretty little Hufflepuff who smiles too much. He agreed to the date anyway, because he knew Dom would owe him.

"Hi, you ready?", asked James, hands in his pockets as the girl approached him.

"Yup, so where to?", she asked, picking her way through the snow, towards him.

"I was thinking of stopping by my uncle's joke shop branch here, and then we could go wherever you want"

"Okay, so Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, Scrivenshaft's, Honeyduke's, then the Three Broomsticks?"

* * *

><p>"Pygmy puffs are too cute!", gushed Wendy.<p>

"Yeah, my mum has one named Arnold", said James as he arranged the things he bought so he could hold them better.

"I have a cat, though", she smiled at him, "her name's Koshka"

"Koshka?"

"Have you ever read 'A Clockwork Orange'?"

"um...clockwork orange?", he asked and she laughed a bit.

"It's a muggle book, anyway, the word 'koshka' is in it, and apparently it means 'cat', so yeah"

"Smart", he said sarcastically.

"Shut up, she looked like a Koshka!", she smacked his upper arm lightly with the back of her hand, and laughed, "oh wow, here let me help you". James handed her some of his load.

"Sorry, I'm supposed to carry _your_ stuff"

"It's fine, I've got it", she smiled again, something he was really starting to like.

They made their way to Scrivenshaft's where Wendy spent a lot of time exclaiming at how beautiful and creative a quill could be, but didn't actually buy anything. After that they went to Honeyduke's where she spent most of her money. ("I'm storing for the winter"). But James' favorite part was at the Three Broomsticks.

They were just sitting there, sipping butterbeer, laughing and talking. He felt so warm and calm. He'd never felt that way before. He'd never felt as infinite as he did with her. Her smile was contagious. He'd have held her hand on the walk all the way to the corridor outside the Hufflepuff common room if they weren't carrying so much stuff. So when they got there, he kissed her instead. It was a soft, lingering peck on the lips, over as fast as it'd begun.

PART FIVE

He was her first. James was Wendy's first love, first boyfriend, first kiss, first...anything romantic. It was over as fast as it'd begun.

PART SIX

It was the calmest, quietest whirlwind romance James had ever had, and all his romances had been whirlwind ones.

He was perfectly content with her company. They'd kiss and hold hands, but nothing more. She was the best conversationalist. They were right, he decided, when they said that Hufflepuffs make the best girlfriends, but it wasn't because she was loyal and always patient with him that he loved her so much. He loved her because of how she made him feel. Just feeling her near him made him calm.

Slowly, though, he started noticing things. It was as though she just didn't feel the same way. She was distant and frigid sometimes. He realized that she'd never hold hands or kiss in public. She didn't like PDA, and he understood that. After a while, they started spending less and less time together. They'd been together for months. They broke up a week before the End-of-Year feast. She told him she couldn't give him what he needed, that she was emotionally damaged. She didn't even blink. She didn't understand what he needed, and maybe that was why she thought she wasn't enough. All he needed was her company.

PART SEVEN

"Last Kiss"

Wendy skipped that song. James noticed.


	2. Chapter II: Ophelia

CHAPTER TWO

Quidditch season had just ended, and James was looking for a place to rent until it started up again. He was a regular for the team now, and was Keeper. When he turned 20 (a few months back) he promised his parents that he'd finally get his own place. Before then, he used to come over to Godric's Hollow after every season. He decided to just rent someplace. After all, it wasn't as though he would be there all year round.

Ophelia was born a Squib to an otherwise pureblood magical family. Needless to say, her inability to do magic was a disappointment. But Ophelia saw it as Fate punishing her family. Her entire extensive clan was either dead or in Azkaban. The biggest disappointment about her was that she wasn't just a squib, she was also a girl, and the only heir, or rather, _heiress_. She couldn't do magic, couldn't pass on the family name, and yet would still inherit everything. Ophelia was triumphant in the face of her parents' deaths. Her mother died giving birth to a stillborn baby boy. Her father died of some strange magical virus.

With her vast fortune and large manor, there was really no need for Ophelia to work. She spent her days painting and playing the violin. She'd hired a gardener as well as a maid, but she still preferred staying indoors out of habit. Her parents never used to let her out. However, on a whim, she decided to rent out one of the rooms in her manor. She figured she might as well put it to good use. That was how she met James Potter.

PART ONE

The place was a manor in the countryside. The grounds were extensive, but surrounded by trees. The manor itself was wide and had four floors. His very expensive rent allowed him the ownership of two rooms on the second floor (bathrooms included), the usage of the living rooms, kitchen, other rooms on the first floor, and the grounds.

It was only when James finally moved in when he met Ophelia. The whole transaction had been made via owl and the maid. Of course, he knew the owner's name and background, and she knew his, but they'd never actually met in person. He expected Ophelia to be some sort of scary, vampiric hermit who'd never seen the sun. He thought he was proved right by the scratchy strains of a violin when he finally arrived.

"The mistress is learning a new song. She's usually better", said the aged maid who was leading him to his room. The gardener was behind him, struggling with the rest of his belongings.

PART TWO

James was thinking about that first day as he beheld the tall, pale, blonde, in nothing but shorts and a ratty old shirt, standing on a table, playing the violin. He'd heard "I Want to Hold Your Hand" being played in the room above his. As soon as she heard the door open, she stopped. Both of her hands hung limp on either side of her, violin in one hand, bow in the other.

"Hi, I'm sorry...I just...really like that song", stammered James, trying not to look like a pervert.

She got off the low, square table. The room was empty of any other furniture except some throw pillows and a few chairs scattered about. The rest of the room was full of sheet music, tubes of paint, brushes, and paintings.

"You're not allowed here", she frowned at him, but he could see she didn't really care and only wanted to get back to playing the violin.

"I'm sorry", he repeated.

"It's okay", she put down her violin all of a sudden, and picked up a rough sketch of the grounds and the manor.

"What do you think of this?", she asked flippantly.

"It's good. Did you make that?"

"Yeah, I'm painting it soon. And this?", she showed him the painting of what looked like a traveling salesman burdened with too many odds and ends.

"It's...nice"

"Thanks"

After putting the painting down, she suddenly looked at him seriously, as if she had just noticed he was there.

"May I paint you?"

And that was the start of their relationship.

PART THREE

It was quidditch season again, and James was on a train headed for practice. He had officially left Ophelia and her hermitage. As he sat in the empty compartment, he tried to look back at what made him love her so much. She was beautiful, yes, but he'd been with many other beautiful women. She was a squib, but he'd been with a muggle before, and that's basically the same, right?

He remembered sitting across her in the living room. She'd force him to read very intellectual books both muggle and magical. When he found himself unable to concentrate, he'd watch her read from afar. Sometimes, she'd bite her lip in concentration, and other times, she'd giggle all of a sudden.

It was her uniqueness, he guessed, that made him love her so much. She was spontaneous and imaginative. He had no idea that it was possible to always have so much fun with the same person all day every day.

Sometimes she'd play her violin for him, other times she'd sing. Always, it was about feeling things, emotions. That was what she was, an endless bundle of emotions. Only, it was never the bad sort, just a bunch of happy thoughts. She was a modern day hippie.

PART FOUR

Ophelia liked James. She liked him a lot, and during the time they spent together, that was her last thought every night. She liked how he was always game, and understood her oddity. Whenever she spoke her mind, he'd smile as if what she said was the smartest thing he'd ever heard.

She liked the way he'd tell her stories about everything she'd missed as a squib. She especially liked the way he said them. He didn't make it sound as though she'd missed out at everything, or that he pitied her. He told his stories as though she had done or could do those things too.

Ophelia loved how James loved her. It was as though no one else in the world mattered but the two of them. She liked it that way, just Ophelia, James, and the manor.

PART FIVE

Ophelia broke up with James. She broke up with him, broke his heart, and then sent him off with a painting and a goodbye.

She gave a short explanation. They were no good together. All feelings pass, and soon so would theirs. Ophelia wanted nothing to do with the rest of the world, and James belonged there. She'd been selfish for too long.

She made sure he understood that it wasn't that she never loved him; it was that they didn't belong. She belonged inside, he belonged outside, and the reason they fell in love was because they both _subconsciously _wanted something different for a change. She then promptly sent him out of the manor with his belongings, and a little souvenir. No matter, he was leaving anyway.

PART SIX

James sat in the compartment alone. He figured that it was time to take a look at the rolled up canvas he'd placed beside him. He picked it up, undid the string, and flattened out the painting as best he could.

It was him. It was the sketch she did of him the very first day they met, except all painted. He was sitting quite comfortably on the floor by the door. He remembered how Ophelia had simply ordered him to sit where he was and just act normal. Well, he was used to posing for photographs by then. A painting wasn't much different.

At the bottom right corner were her initials in fancy black cursive. James rolled up the canvas, tied it up with string, and put it down beside him again. He gave a deep sigh, leaned his forehead against the cool glass window, and resumed thinking about Ophelia. Wonderful, magical, Ophelia.


	3. Chapter III: Sophia

CHAPTER THREE

She took his photo for the Daily Prophet. She was a sports correspondent, and word was spreading that James was on his way to becoming the new team captain. All season she was at all their games. She'd write the most blatantly flirtatious articles journalism ethics would permit, and then claim it was all part of the job.

"James Potter, brimming with charm…"

"Greeting loyal fans with a heart-stopping smile…"

"More than just good-looks and charisma…"

Sophia knew what she was doing…or so she would tell herself after every torrid post-game hook-up. It was completely okay to be in a secret relationship with one of the players you were supposed to be covering (and oh, was she all over him). Besides, Sophia had big plans. She was going to overcome the inherent sexism in the sports journalism industry. She was going to become the Daily Prophet's first woman sports editor, and she was going to do it before she turned 30.

PART ONE

"Woah", she breathed out after another night together. Tonight, they were in Sophie's flat.

"We deserve a gold medal. If there was an Olympic category for sex, we would win it. We'd kill out there." James rambled, just as breathless. Sophie laughed, and curled into him.

"Are you going to fall asleep on me now?" she asked, half-joking, though she knew the answer.

"You read my mind", he admitted, kissing her on the forehead. They fell asleep in a mess of tangled limbs, and out-of-place chaste kisses.

* * *

><p>The following morning, James awoke to the smell of breakfast: bacon and eggs. He groggily got up and put on his shirt and boxers. In the bathroom, he splashed some water on his face to wake him up, rubbing his unshaven chin.<p>

The kitchen was across the flat from the bedroom. He found her there, absently frying something in a pan. She was wearing a loose shirt and, as far as he could tell, just her underwear. He walked across the living room to where she was, with her back to him.

"Good morning", she said, turning towards him, just as he was going to surprise her.

"Aw, man, I swear, you're psychic or something", he laughed, wrapping her in a hug from behind.

"No, I just have…you know, ears. You're not a very quiet person", she tried to laugh, but at this point, he was already nuzzling her neck. "James, I'm trying to make breakfast!" though she continued to protest, her neck as already arching to allow for more room.

PART TWO

Sophie never cheered at his games. That way, at least, she could feign some professionalism. As soon as she was off this assignment (by the end of the season, really), they could finally tell everyone about their relationship. Until then, everything was a secret. And if Sophia were being truly honest, the sneaking around only made things more exciting.

James tried hard. He really did. He tried not to look for her in the stands. He tried to stop himself from running to her when, after every game, the team was swarmed by reporters, and she would be one of them. He tried not wink or grin or call out to her. He tried.

PART THREE

"I know what you're doing", said the Daily Prophet's sports editor after having Sophia called into his office. "End it. That, or I'll have to fire you." Sophie replied with cold silence. "Don't even try to lie."

"May I ask how you found out?" Sophie said, nervously patting the bun her dark hair was twisted into. Not a hair was out of place.

"Goddammit!" the burly man (an ex-beater) slammed an open palm onto his desk, "I'm a journalist! And I'm your boss! It's my job to know when you're breaking the goddamn rules of journalism ethics!"

"I'll…I'll deal with it, sir", she replied, maintaining a semblance of control, "and…thank you, sir, for coming to me first." Sophie was dismissed, and left the office feeling grateful that she would get to keep her job.

PART FOUR

Sophie was driven. She had a fighting spirit. She knew what she wanted, and she was unafraid. He loved that about her. He barely remembered her from school. She was on the Slytherin quidditch team, though she never became captain. James suspected this was because she never planned on it anyway. She hadn't even bothered. She was studious. He never had the time for that sort.

When they met for the first time (because they never met at school), it was at a pub where James and a few of his teammates were continuing to celebrate a victory. His other teammates had already left. Sophie approached him first, and he had flirted outrageously. Sophia had found it endearing.

PART FIVE

"I'm worried", Sophie said as she lay on James's chest one night.

"About what?", he asked, already drifting off.

"That I like too many things about you", she was whispering into the dark, listening as the rhythm of his heartbeat slowed. He was starting to fall asleep.

"Well then, maybe I should be worried too", he replied sleepily, laughing.

Sophie lay there a few minutes more, in utter silence. She listened to the rhythm of his breathing, felt his chest rise and fall, felt his warmth. She snuggled closer, suddenly the room had gotten colder.

"James?" she whispered tentatively. There was no reply. She propped herself up on one elbow and turned to his face. She brought her other hand to his cheek and kissed him softly.

PART SIX

She'd sat him down on her dining room table and told him about everything her boss had told her. He'd run his hands all over his face and through his hair over and over again willing himself to wake up, because it couldn't have been reality, right? I was just a nightmare.

Neither of them could do it. Neither of them could hold onto their relationship. He couldn't make her give up on her dreams, and she couldn't let go of them, especially when she was so close. She let him go, and he walked away without a fight.


End file.
